Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Westphalian Song
When thou to my true-love com'st
 Greet her from me kindly;
When she asks thee how I fare?
 Say, folks in Heaven fare finely.
When she asks, 'What! Is he sick?'
 Say, dead!—and when for sorrow
She begins to sob and cry,
 Say, I come to-morrow.
